


Because of the Penguin Wedding

by w_k_smith



Category: Captain Marvel (2019), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Local Government, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/F, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Inspired by Parks and Recreation, Mentions of Racism, Penguins, mentions of queerphobia, very gay, very queer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_k_smith/pseuds/w_k_smith
Summary: Valkyrie is the beleaguered mayor of Asgard, a small town that could stand to be a little more progressive. When she accidentally officiates the wedding of two female penguins at the local zoo, some citizens are elated, while other are outraged. Valkyrie thinks the event has impressed the beautiful newcomer Carol Danvers, and hopes to run into her at the charity "reception" being held at the town's gay bar, the Rainbow Bridge.(Inspired by Parks and Recreation S2E1 "Pawnee Zoo," but no knowledge of Parks and Rec is necessary to enjoy this story!)
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Carol Danvers
Kudos: 14





	Because of the Penguin Wedding

**Author's Note:**

> Why is this ship not canon yet?

Valkyrie, known to both her fans and detractors as “Mayor Val,” thought that a town as weird as Asgard should have been more accepting of queer penguins. Asgard had been founded more than a century before America itself, by vagabond Vikings, Native Americans, and (legend had it) giants. Asgard had character. Valkyrie’s loud, bearded predecessor used to bring craft beer into the office, had once gotten into a fistfight with his sister on Main Street, and had retired to ride around in an orange van. And everybody _loved_ him. But he wasn’t an openly queer black woman, and he hadn’t officiated the wedding of two female penguins.

Valkyrie hadn’t known both penguins were girls. The local zoo had come to her office to ask for help drumming up attendance, and their representative had mentioned they’d just gotten two new penguins, and a metaphorical light bulb had snapped on above Valkyrie’s head. Penguins looked like they were wearing tuxedos, so they were always dressed for a fancy event, _and what was fancier than a wedding_? “Kipper” and “Cummerbund” were pretty vague names, and penguins probably had no concept of gender, and if Valkyrie had given it a thought beforehand she would have assumed the public wouldn’t know or care what the penguin’s genitals were. She had no idea what kind of genitals birds had. She made a conscious decision not to Google the information.

The wedding felt like a success, at the time. The zoo set up a sound system to play Pachelbel’s Canon in D, kids threw birdseed on the ground instead of rice, and the zoo staff even let Valkyrie into the enclosure to pronounce Kipper and Cummerbund “penguin and penguin.” Valkyrie wasn’t a cute person, didn’t do cute very often at all, but she thought the wedding went well.

Then some Karen on Facebook posted a rant about Mayor Val’s Militant LGBTXYZ Agenda and everything had gone straight to hell.

Valkyrie leaned back in her office chair, and checked her watch to tally the minutes until she could take another ibuprofen. The Asgard Sun-Journal-Tribute-Times on her desk was open to the opinion section. “Keep Your Stunts out of My Local Government!” read the title of one letter to the editor, written by Whitelady Who-gives-a-shit from Americans for an American America. “Animal Weddings Are Empty Gestures Masquerading As Praxis,” was the counterpoint, written by one of Valkyrie’s exes, who held court over a local chapter of the ACLU, and who always “forgot” when it was his turn to bring snacks to a meeting.

Valkyrie’s assistant had the day off, so she had been left to wallow and worry on her own all morning. When someone knocked on the door, she said a quick prayer of thanks to the universe for the distraction.

“Come on in!” she called, assuming it was a colleague from city hall, with something so urgent and so non-penguin-related that they didn’t want to run the risk of her not picking up the phone.

Valkyrie didn’t recognize the woman who opened the door. She was blonde, white, and practically the dictionary definition of soft butch. Short hair, a trace of nude lipstick, leather jacket over blue plaid, and heavily scuffed Doc Martens.

Valkyrie put on her Pleasant Civil Servant persona. “What can I do for you? These aren’t my regular open hours, so I may not be able to talk for long, but I’m always happy to help a voter.”

The woman her hands in her pockets. “I’m new in town, actually. My name’s Carol Danvers. I used to work with the guy who was mayor before you.”

“How’s he doing, traveling around with the…?” Valkyrie frowned. “That group he’s with, something something Galaxy. Are they a band?”

“No one knows. And he’s doing great. Anyway, the Rainbow Bridge is hosting a ‘reception’ for the wedding. I have been sent to invite you to be the guest of honor. A cut of the night’s profits is going to the Trevor Project.”

The Rainbow Bridge was Asgard’s adorable gay bar. Valkyrie hadn’t drunk there in three years. She hadn’t drunk alcohol anywhere for any reason for two years. Bars were dicey places for her, more for the bad memories they brought up rather than a temptation to drink, but Valkyrie had to weigh the political implications as well.

She decided to stall. “Do you, ah, work there?”

Carol shook her head. She had nice eyes. Valkyrie was beginning to notice how hot Carol was, with her confident smile and _absolutely killer_ jawline. It wasn’t a professional line of thought. That didn’t stop Valkyrie from having it.

“I used to work with your predecessor,” Carol said. “He knew I was in Asgard, somehow. The owner, Sif, asked if he wanted to help throw the reception, but he can’t make it. He called me and suggested I invite you personally.”

“That’s…odd.”

Carol crossed her arms. “I’m sure he had his reasons. So – can I put you down as a ‘yes’?”

“I…” Valkyrie pretended to be distracted by something on her computer screen. On the one hand, this penguin wedding had given her enough headache already. On the other, this was a matter of principle, even if by accident. The people of Asgard had a queer, proud, exhausted, black woman for a leader, and Mayor Val wasn’t going to pretend she wasn’t all of those things. She would _go_ to the Rainbow Bridge, damn it, and it would be a _lovely_ photo op. She would be there to shake hands, smile, connect with voters…and maybe, if the stars aligned, she and Carol would hit it off.

And if it went badly, Valkyrie would go home, draw the blinds, eat an entire pizza, and watch wrestling.

“I…accept the invitation,” Valkyrie said.

“Here’s the info.” Carol set a flyer on Valkyrie’s desk. It showed two penguins, both wearing rainbow wedding veils.

“Will I see you there?” Valkyrie asked, keeping her eyes on the flyer, and her tone casual.

“Yeah. You will,” Carol said.

Valkyrie’s heart and stomach briefly exchanged places. She tried to think of something collected and interesting to say, but Carol turned and left Valkyrie’s office, with a little wave over her shoulder.

*

The Rainbow Bridge was a nondescript grey block on the outside, but a pop of color on the inside. The floor was made of oil-slick rainbow tile, and most of the pink walls were dotted with glow-in-the-dark stars that caught the reflections from the retro disco ball over the dance floor. Art and memorabilia covered one wall. The collection included, Valkyrie was happy to note, a yard sign from her campaign for mayor.

Valkyrie wasn’t prone to the female stereotype of agonizing in front of her closet, but…she’d spent a good half hour agonizing in front of her closet. She didn’t want to go in her office clothes, because while she had some absolutely killer blazers, she didn’t want to people (Carol) to think she thought of this as a business function. She also didn’t just want to dress for a night of partying, because she didn’t want people (Carol?) _forgetting_ she was Mayor Val, either. And a lot of her partying clothes were mumble mumble years and mumble mumble pounds old.

She settled on a high ponytail, a black t-shirt, and the jeans that made her butt look good. When she got to the Rainbow Bridge, she was happy to see that the party was already busy, but found herself searching the crowd for Carol. Valkyrie had to remind herself that, as the “guest of honor” at the reception, she was here for more than one person.

“Mayor Val!” Sif called. She made her way across the bar, somehow without pushing or bumping into anyone. She air-kissed Valkyrie on both cheeks, and grabbed her shoulders with a too-tight grip. “I’m so glad you came.” She lowered her voice. “I haven’t seen you around here in a while. Is this OK for you?”

Valkyrie waved her hands. “It’s fine. Really, it’s fine.”

“Then welcome to the reception. Have a mocktail for charity.” Sif walked off.

“I’m also glad you came.”

Valkyrie turned around to see Carol standing close by, holding two glasses that both contained brown liquid. Carol was wearing a different leather jacket – longer, darker, more formal.

“A politician keeping a promise,” Valkyrie said. “Take a good look.”

“Mayor Val!” someone said, loudly even for the inside of a bar. Two men, who barely looked old enough to drink, had caught sight of Valkyrie. “Can I get a selfie?” one of them asked.

“Sure,” Valkyrie said.

He stood next to her, and held up his phone. Carol smirked at Valkyrie right before the flash went off.

The guy seemed satisfied, though. “Thanks, Mayor Val!” he said, and he and his boyfriend disappeared to the dance floor.

“That’s a nice thing about being gay,” Carol said, raising her voice as a new song began to pump from the speakers. “Watching thing get a little easier for the kids who come after you. Makes me happy.”

“That’s true. But it also makes me feel old.”

Carol’s smirk returned. “You aren’t that old.”

“I’m older than I look.” An impulse rose in Valkyrie’s mind, and she decided to ride the wave. “Can I show you something over by the bar?”

“Lead the way.”

Valkyrie took her to a stretch of wall where Sif had hung a series of photographs. Several of them were of Sif’s athletic glory days – rugby, soccer, a high school football team that was otherwise all male. Sif had also been a part of Asgard’s long and grungy history of roller derby, and had hung one team photo of a year when Valkyrie was front and center of the…

“The Valkyries?” Carol said, leaning forward. The liquid in her two glasses sloshed dangerously. “Someone was a narcissist in their youth.”

“It was already the name of the team before I came along,” Valkyrie said. “Are you…planning on drinking either of those?”

“Only one of them,” Carol said, holding out a glass. “The other was meant for you, actually.”

“Oh, boy, I really shouldn’t be taking alcoholic gifts from a business.”

“It’s not from the Rainbow Bridge. It’s from me. You struck me as the sipping whiskey type.”

“I’m sober,” Valkyrie couldn’t stop herself from blurting.

Carol’s mouth set into a hard line. Valkyrie felt the fun, flirty night she’d been hoping for fading away.

“My apologies,” Carol said, and turned away. “Merry Christmas,” she said, handing the whiskey to a woman with pink hair who was trying to wave down the bartender for another Seven and Seven.

“It’s May,” the woman said.

“Do you want free booze or not?” Carol asked her.

The woman shrugged, but accepted the whiskey.

“Carol –” Valkyrie began. She had nothing to apologize for, and no plans to apologize, but she did not want to see Carol just walk away.

“Mayor Val! You’re needed.” Valkyrie didn’t notice Sif until her hand was on Valkyrie’s arm. “The guest of honor needs to address her public.”

“Oh. Of…course.” Valkyrie had to let herself be lead away. Carol stayed behind at the bar. Sif handed Valkyrie a microphone. The music had stopped – surely only briefly.

“Hello, everyone,” Valkyrie said. “Thank you for turning out for such a good cause.”

A light cheer rose from the crowd.

“I have to be honest with you all,” Valkyrie said. “I…did not know those penguins were lesbians. I guess I should have checked their fingernails.”

Just the right amount of laughter.

“I didn’t do what I did on purpose,” Valkyrie continued. “But I stand by it! I’ve never shied away from being who I am in the public eye. And if animal marriage equality is a part of that, the Asgard Zoo is going to have to print a bunch more marriage certificates.”

Sif tilted the microphone toward her own mouth. “Let’s hear it for the mayor!”

The bar erupted into applause. Valkyrie glanced over her shoulder, and saw that Carol had joined in. Carol saw her looking, and raised her eyebrows. Valkyrie had to look away.

The applause stopped the second the music started again, this time a Beyoncé song turned up to an eardrum-shattering volume.

Carol put a hand on Valkyrie’s shoulder. “Do you want to step outside for minute?” she yelled.

“That would be great!” Valkyrie yelled back.

The crowd had mostly moved to the dance floor, so they didn’t have to push and shove to go out the door into the parking lot. The night was warm; the wind was cool. The music from the bar leaked outside, especially the vibrating bass.

“What did you want to talk to me about?” Valkyrie asked.

“Did you really not know the penguins were both female? And don’t B.S. me. I’ll know.”

“I really, truly, didn’t. Not until after.”

“You didn’t think about it at all?”

“Not _at all_ , I guessed I just assumed no one would check or care.”

“Wasn’t there already a whole gay penguin children’s book that got people’s underwear in a wad? And then the one with the gay rabbits…”

“Shit. That’s right. I’m an idiot.”

Carol shook her head. “You’re not an idiot. I’m an idiot. I shouldn’t have gotten you a drink without asking. The guessing-your-drink line has worked before. Maybe it’s time to retire that one.”

“You were using a line on me?”

“Was that not obvious? I meant it to be obvious.” Carol crossed her arms. “I think the old mayor was playing matchmaker.”

“What was he like to work with?”

“Not so different from what you would think. Definitely not the weirdest person I’ve known professionally. I used to have a boss who was the spitting image of Annette Benning.”

“We should all be so lucky.” Valkyrie tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “So. Are you happy we were match-made?”

Carol nodded. “Yeah. I am. Are you?”

Valkyre cleared her throat.

“Do you like me?” Carol pressed. “And I’m not going to get pissed if you don’t. I just want to know. I’m not interested in playing games.”

“I – I do. I think I do. But –”

“This is flattering,” Carol said.

“You’re hot!” Valkyrie blurted. “You’re very hot, and you seem smart, and cool. But being Mayor Val can mess with my brain. I get so wrapped up in being ‘on’ in public that…I worry people won’t really see _me_ anymore.”

“Well,” Carol said. “It’s just the two of us out here. And I like what I see.”

“And I feel the same way.”

“Oh, you have _feelings_ for me now?” Carol said, raising her eyebrows.

“We politicians aren’t all heartless robots.” Valkyrie put her hand over Carol’s. “Do you want to dance? To something slow and old and of terrible sound quality because it’ll be coming through my phone’s speaker?”

Carol smiled. “It would be my honor.”

They danced together in the parking lot. Neither of them was very good. They kept getting thrown off their rhythm by the music coming from the Rainbow Bridge.

It was the best date Valkyrie had been on in a long time.

And Valkyrie was very happy she’d married two gay penguins.

**Author's Note:**

> In case you were wondering, "Mayor Val" was not inspired by "Mayor Pete," it was just inspired by the fact that she doesn't have a last name in the movies. Or a name at all, really.
> 
> Any comments are appreciated and I will probably reply, but if you don't comment that's still cool. Have a nice day.


End file.
